


Like real humans do

by Mikaeru



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Scene: Garden of Eden (Good Omens), Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24116266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikaeru/pseuds/Mikaeru
Summary: “Would you like to try?”“Try what?”“Squishing our faces together.”“Why should we?”“It seems fun.”As they watched over Adam and Eve, they learned something very human.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 107





	Like real humans do

**Author's Note:**

> This is a kinkmeme fill, you can find the prompt [here](https://good-omens-kink.dreamwidth.org/3161.html?thread=2731353#cmt2731353) :)  
> (and you can find me [here](http://bebrave-andbekind.tumblr.com), if you want! :D)

Crawly loved the Garden, spacious and lush as it was, with all that green and fresh grass to nap on, and the apples were to die for. (or, at least, to sin for.) He liked to slither up the tree, kick them down on the grass, then nip on them, taking just a nibble or two, suck one or two pieces, swirling his tongue around the pulp, just to spite Her.

Eve's kids, outside the walls, were growing fine, with strong bones and bright laughter, but they could be a little demanding sometimes; so, not having anything to do, he had decided a nap could be the sensible thing to do. After all he needed the energy to cause mischief. He had curled up in a ball, breathing in the sweet smell of the air.

When the light went out he peeked his head up, only to discover that the angel – Aziraphale – was there, looking down at him.

“Crawly, what are you doing here?”, he asked, genuine surprise in his voice. Crawly sighed, then shifted back to his human form. He stood up, stretching his arms over his head.

“Sleeping.” He yawned for good measure. Aziraphale gave him a puzzled look.

“We don't need to sleep.”

“Maybe you don't, but I do. And what are _you_ doing here?”, he asked with a little smirk. Aziraphale pursued his lips, then looked around himself, as if he didn't know where he was.

“I was just taking a look at the Garden. You know, one of the most cherished God's creations. She would be pleased knowing that it is well taken care of.”

“And what are you doing to take care of it?”

“Well, I'm looking for pests to chase away.”

“Are you going to chase me away, then?”

Aziraphale looked, for just a moment, sad. “No, you weren't doing anything bad. It wouldn't feel right.”

Crawly fought the urge to circling him, looking at him from every angle. He liked this angel, didn't want to scare him away.

“I bet it's not just that.”

“What?”

“You smell funny.”

“ _Funny_?”, the angel said in an outraged tone, the tiniest shrill in the last letter. He brought an arm up to his nose, smelled it. “I don't smell _funny_!”

“You smell like the humans. Did you go to see them? I did.”

The angel, red in the face, started fidgeting, and Crawly was almost tempted to tickle his sides.

“I had to watch over them!”, confessed Aziraphale – and wasn't there something that sounded like relief?, “All those vicious beasts – and they have to eat and they couldn't figure out how to milk the goats and I had to show them and it was all very messy, I tell you, but they were quite happy in the end. What did _you_ do?”

Crawly frowned. He had spent all day playing with the kids – they weren't scared of the big black snake – but he didn't need to tell the angel that. It wasn't decent for a demon. “Was just doing a bit of sleuthing, so when I have to cause a ruckus I'll know how to.”

“You leave them alone, those poor dears! With all those children – it's already too chaotic as it is without your interfering!”

Oh, he liked the angel indeed.

“Yes, yes, poor unfortunate souls,” Crawly said dismissively, waving a hand. The angel was still, just playing a little with the hem of his tunic. Crawly was absolutely not looking at those hands, the curve of those wrists. “Can I ask you something, though?” he said, tentatively, “There's no one to ask to except you on this particular matter.”

“Oh?”, said Aziraphale, already curious. He stopped wringing his hands.

“Did you notice that strange thing they do?”

“They do a lot of strange things in my book. They need to eat, how curious is that?”

“Yeah, and they have to drink too! But the smaller kids drink from the mother! I sure am glad I didn't have to drink from God.”

“Crawly! You can't say stuff like that!”

“Why? 'm a demon. I can say whatever I want.”

Aziraphale groaned, clearly displeased. “Well. When you talk about weird, you need to be more specific.”

“You know, when they squish their faces together,” he wrinkled his nose, “Like when they do with their efforts when they want to make babies.”

“I don't think they're called efforts, Crawly, they don't have to miracle them up.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. The making babies thing? That I understand, like when they want to light a fire. But when they squish their faces they... laugh? It doesn't seem funny though. But maybe it's nice enough to laugh? I don't get it.”

Aziraphale crossed his arms. “I don't understand it either. It's so hot out there but they're always together, always touching each other and they sleep together and -”

“Did you watch them sleep, Aziraphale?”, smiled Crawly, too amused for his own good.

“There was a lion!”

“Yeah, all right. I'm sure there were a hundred lions.”

“No, just two.”

“Oh now there were two.”

“Yes, I've just remembered.”

They stood there in silence for a bit, not sure about what they had to do, until Crawly asked: “Would you like to try?”

“Try what?”

“Squishing our faces together.”

“Why should we?”

“It seems fun.”

“We're not supposed to have fun.”

“I don't remember God telling any of us to be bored to tears.”

“It's not that, it's... it's a human thing. Having fun, I mean.”

“You milked a goat like three seconds ago.”

“I was helping as a proper angel ought to do! I wasn't having meaningless fun!”

“It's not meaningless if it is fun! And you can't tell me you're not curious, angel.”

Aziraphale sniffed. “I'm not,” he clearly lied, and they both knew that.

“So why are you here?”

“I told you -”

“Yeah, that ain't the truth. You were curious about the garden is all. There's not another reason. Maybe you hoped to have company too?”, he dared, half smiling.

“Oh! Oh!”, Aziraphale bellowed, “The very thought that I – oh!”

“I absolutely can't understand what kind of answer is that.”

Aziraphale went quiet for a moment, falling in a guilty silence. He pouted (shit, wasn't that cute) and then sighed. “It seemed likely that I would have found you here, and I didn't have much to to today.”

“So,” said Crawly, somehow incredibly happy, “why are you so against a bit of fun?”

“It doesn't seem proper,” said Aziraphale, his voice a little hollow, as if those weren't really words he would pronounce, “and what if they see us? It would be a catastrophe!”

“Nobody will see us. My lot is busy plotting against the sun and your lot is busy looking at their reflection.”

Aziraphale looked at his feet, then at Crawly. Something started to twinkle in his eyes. “Oh, well,” he said, rather happier than before, “I need to know about human behaviour if I want to help them, after all.”

“Sounds right, angel. So, what do we need to do?”

“Mh,” said Aziraphale, pondering, “we should get closer for a start.”

The grass was clean and fresh under their feet and made the lightest rustling sound as they closed their distance. “Now?”, asked Crawly, already eager to get on.

“I've seen the man putting his hands on the woman's shoulders,” said Aziraphale while doing so. His hands were pale and soft. “And then he just put his mouth on hers.”

And then he kissed Crawly. His lips were soft, too, and gentle. Crawly didn't remember anything gentle since the early days of his existence, when they all were but a bundle of light and vague conscience.

Aziraphale was pressing his mouth on him, just that, as still as the sky. They were looking at each other and Crawly felt something around his bellybutton as they parted (but Aziraphale's hands remained where they were.)

“Something isn't right,” lied Crawly.

“Indeed,” lied Aziraphale. “Should we try again?”

“Wait, we need to study first,” said Crawly, a little too eagerly. “What do you think were we doing wrong?”

“I think they keep their eyes closed.”

“You're right. Close your eyes and let me try. Be still.”

“Don't get so bossy, Crawly.”

Crawly circled Aziraphale's waist – his tunic was soft too, and Crawly was suddenly dying to know how his hair felt under his fingers -, closed his eyes and kissed him.

“You're looking! Shut your eyes, angel!”

“I'm sorry, I was curious!”

“This is not the time to be curious!”

“But that's why we're doing this!”

“ – well, don't get too curious!”

“But -”

“Shush!”

Crawly kissed him again. He had an idea, and he started moving his mouth a bit, a little like nibbling an apple. That worked.

“I think I should move too,” whispered Aziraphale.

“Oh, yes, maybe. Let's try.”

Aziraphale did and that warmness expanded, wetting all of Crawly's body. His skin tingled as if ants were crawling all over his back.

“Oh,” said Aziraphale whey they (sadly) parted again, “there's something the man does sometimes...”, and he took a strand of Crawly's wild hair, putting it behind his ear, and then kissed him on the cheek.

“Oh, you know what?”, said Crawly, feeling his heart beating in his throat, “I've seen them doing this on the ground.”

“How many times were you with them?”

“Just enough. Come on angel, lay down with me.”

They laid down on their side, looking at each other. They started smiling, then giggling.

“I like it when it rains,” said Crawly.

“Why?”

Crawly couldn't reply. “You sheltered me and I've thought about it ever since” wasn't an acceptable answer.

“You know, the humans, they're also all tangled up when they're like this. She's in his arms and, you know, since you're acting like the man...”

“It's just because she has longer hair like yours.”

Aziraphale took him in his arms, against his chest, and Crawly could feel his heart beating, and what a wonderful music that was, so much better than all those blessed celestial harmonies he so bitterly remembered.

“Are you comfortable, Crawly?”, Aziraphale asked, in a voice so thoughtful it was almost moving. His breath was warm on Crawly's head. “I'm not crushing you, am I?”

“No, 's good angel. Should we...?”

“Oh, yes, we absolutely should.”

So they kissed and kissed, safe and sound in each other's arms. Sometimes they broke the kiss to giggle – at first they did it to breath, even if they didn't need to, but it seemed like the right thing to do, just as the humans did; but then it seemed ridiculous, so they decided to keep on kissing. At some point Crawly tentatively searched for the angel's hand: Aziraphale broke the kiss just to smile at him and hold his hand. Crawly found out that Aziraphale's hair too was soft, but he didn't keep his fingers there for more that a couple of seconds; it felt like too much.

The kiss, the music – all was new, warm, slightly buzzing; he noticed Aziraphale's cheeks – he was blushing a little, and he was bright, lovely, almost tempting. _Oh_ , Crawly thought, _I understand Eve_.

“Can I...”, he stumbled, squeezing Aziraphale's hand, “can I taste you?”

“Oh?”

He coughed. “I mean – I'm sure I saw them, like, open their mouths to the other, a bit like when they eat something.”

“You're incredibly observant, Crawly.”

“I like to watch things and stuff.”

“I see. So do I have to...?”

Aziraphale opened his mouth so wide it made Crawly laugh.

“You don't have to eat me, I'm not your prey!” He took his chin in hand. “And I won't eat you either.”

“But how can you taste me if you can't enter my mouth?”

“Mh.” Crawly stopped in his tracks, scrunching his nose. “I think it's just a bit of tongue? I slip it in your mouth and I take it from there.”

“Sounds gross.”

“Well, we can try and if we don't like we'll stop, sounds good?”

“Yes. Go ahead, then.”

So Crawly did. He flicked his tongue out, traced Aziraphale's lips. (sweeter than apples, brighter than the sun.) Slowly, slowly, he entered his mouth. It was wet, but not unpleasantly so. He restrained himself from opening his eyes, because it would spoil the moment; but it was too much of a temptation, and what was he if not a tempter? He should start listening to himself. So he peeked and was so glad he did, because Aziraphale was simply beautiful, perfect – he didn't think he was because there was no concept of beauty yet, but what he did know was that he was transfixed for a moment and forgot to move his tongue, so Aziraphale opened his eyes.

“Are you alright, Crawly? Did – did I taste funny?”

“No – no, you don't, I was just... er...”

“Do you want me to try? I didn't move because I didn't know if I should have.”

“Yeah, maybe it works better if we both move. Let's try again.”

Aziraphale nodded, closed his eyes and kissed him, but with tongue this time.

Their fingers were still intertwined and Crawly took them to his heart. Aziraphale scooted nearer, so much their stomachs were touching. Something between them was humming and the air was glistening pink.

“You know...”, said Crawly, breaking the kiss for just a moment, “sometimes the humans -”

“They hug?”, said Aziraphale under his breath.

“Yeah... would you like that?”

“I think so...”

So they hugged as they kissed and Crawly was feeling like when he helped Eve giving birth to her youngest – full of wonder and purpose, inside and outside of himself at the same time. He didn't know if it was allowed, if they (he) could feel that way – but to hell with that.

“You...”, said Aziraphale, but trailed off.

“Me?” asked Crawly, his voice a bit lower that usual, a bit huskier.

“You taste nice. And smell nice.”

“You too, angel.”

“There should be a flower named after you.”

“Flowers don't have a name.”

“Yet. Don't you think it's unfair? God gave us names but She didn't think to give one to flowers.”

“Maybe we should come up with something. You know the ones that never grow quite well? They're Gabriels.”

“Crawly!”, said Aziraphale, scandalized, but then he laughed. “You're not supposed to talk about the Archangel that way,” he snickered.

“Ain't no angel no more, I can talk shit as much as I like.”

“Well, then, which one is my flower?”, smiled Aziraphale, kissing him on the nose.

“Mh...”, mused Crawly, pecking him on the mouth and forehead. His laugh was weightless, sweet. “Maybe the round, white ones, the small ones by the plum tree. Eve used to put them in her hair. Which one am I?”

“Oh, you know...”, breathed Aziraphale, as he was looking in Crawly's eyes, all pink, “there's a corner, near the Eastern gate, hidden in the shadows – near the wall, there's a couple of red flowers, petal like fire. I like them.”

Crawly, blood ringing around his chest, kissed him on the nose. He knew which flowers Aziraphale meant, and he loved them. They were stubborn, resilient. He kissed him on the nose again, then he told him to close eyes and kissed his eyelids, his temples.

“I like this human thing,” said Aziraphale, the cords of his voice tender and tangled up with one another, “all this mouth squishing and finger touching.”

“I think that's called cuddles. That's how Eve calls it.”

“Clever humans, with all their words. _Cuddles,_ ” he repeated, as if he was savouring the word, “it has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?”

“Yeah, it does.”

And so they were cuddling and kissing and Crawly showed him how to nuzzle his nose against his neck. There had been a pang, inside of Crawly's head, that would scream WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? for days on end when he couldn't understand what that thing was, all that touching and squishing the humans did. Now it was calm, because Crawly was feeling so good, encircled in something soft and darling. They were kissing and smiling and laughing and nothing, nothing in all of Her creations could compare to that. He felt (and he knew Aziraphale felt too) happy – he felt the very concept of happy, its very nature running through him. 

“Principality of the Eastern Gate, where are you?”

Aziraphale jerked up the instant he had heard the first word.

“Oh dear, they're looking for me! What did I do this time?”

Crawly, arms still around Aziraphale's neck, was having none of it. “Play dead.”

“I can't play dead if I can't die, Crawly!”

Crawly pursued his lips, almost pouting. “We were playing humans until a second ago -”

“I know, but this is serious!”

“Oh,” said Crowley in a small voice that was somehow broken at the bottom. “Well, 'kay. Go, they obviously need you for something so very important. What can they do without their Principality? And how come you're the Guardian of the Eastern Gate? There's no other gate. It's dumb.”

“I don't know, Crawly, but I must go. I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Crawly dismissively, but still a bit relieved, “Well -”

“See you around, Crawly,” said Aziraphale, pecking him on the cheek just before spreading his wings open. 

Oh, said Crawly's heart, just before it started humming. “See ya 'round, angel,” Crawly said to the empty air. He laid back again, crossing his arms under his head. Then he jerked up, decided to looking for those small white flowers. They would look so good in his hair.


End file.
